


of vampires, of virgins, and what comes after

by voidcard



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, also a hint of angst, even then there will be no other explicit ships besides rosemary, i mean the novella not the web series calm down, perhaps even some of the other trolls but no promises, probably nothing too graphic but i'll keep appropriate cws in the chapter notes, some crumbs and hints here and there at most, sorry but i'm sticking to the psycho horror theme, the other alpha / beta kids will likely also make minor appearances, this is basically just a carmilla au minus the homophobia, why not read carmilla? we have The Schloss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidcard/pseuds/voidcard
Summary: Your name is ROSE LALONDE and you inhabit a castle, or schloss, though your family are by no means magnificent people. You strongly believe that the old wives' tales that still run strong among townsfolk are nothing but gibberish. Debating your family on this could be considered one of your secret favourite pastimes, though you would never admit to your own encounters with the supernatural...Your name is KANAYA MARYAM, descendant of the once affluent family of ancient origin, vampiric tendencies and holy fucking shit, falling out of a carriage hurts like hell. Wait, where is the carriage?
Relationships: Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	of vampires, of virgins, and what comes after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to leave as much critique as you please, i'd highly appreciate it in fact. i'm not very well versed in this form of writing... i like to keep to sonnets and sapphic stanzas but also if i'm not the one writing a rosemary carmilla au then what's the fucking point. oh also, i highly recommend reading carmilla either before or after finishing this fic. moreso before because i have no idea when this will be finished. now, enough of my rambling, there are austrians ( not really ) to be haunted and vampyres to be hunted.
> 
> chapter 1 cw: rose's relationship with her mother + brief hint at alcoholism, talk about sleep paralysis + mentions / description of nightmares rose had as a child, mention of blood

Your name is Rose Lalonde and you inhabit a castle, or schloss, though your family are by no means magnificent people. Oh, who are you kidding. Your mother is rich. Your family is rich. You are rich. Together with your sibling, Roxy, and widowed mother, you live alone in this styrian schloss. A drawbridge leads to its yard, there’s definitely no working class explanation for this. However, that drawbridge has been used very sparingly in your time for you have only ever gone out to meet few relatives and friends. Mother has made sure that the area around the schloss is enough to raise two children within its bounds without being too dependent on the nearest localities. Still, you find that it is idiotic to expect your children to live their early years like this, but you digress.

Quite the idyllic picture unfolds in front of your estate and the only path that connects it to the rest of the world is a narrow road passing the drawbridge and curving into the thick forest. A field of flowers adorns the glade untouched and overgrown, near the lake which you often seek out to rest next to; vines climb up to the very top of the schloss, sometimes even peeking into a window if left alone, with various flowers entangled in the web of greenery; no matter the season, when the wind whispers through the hill upon which all of this is built, you can’t help but submit your heart to the simplest form of beauty: nature. The peaceful atmosphere is only rarely broken by the occasional ruckus arising from the depths of the dark forest. A loner's dream, one might say.

Your relationship with your mother is tenuous at best, if it could be considered a relationship at all. She spends most of her days in the cellar where her office and library are located—along with the wine. You know she is trying her best, but the thought alone isn’t enough to comfort you. Nevertheless, as a researcher of the metaphysical—on occasion—she tries to give you and Roxy rudimentary lessons even though you both have already taught yourselves most of what you could find in said library on your own. Her teachings have always included the hierarchy of belief that values empiricism above all, with anything supernatural being at the bottom but you know this to be a lie since she is vastly invested in metaphysics and its dubious zoology, believing in both’s validity to some degree. As such, she always argues that anything unusual you may encounter near the forest is scientifically explainable even if unconventional. The townsfolk argue otherwise.

Nevertheless, you remain doubtful towards any of these stories and myths. After all, there is a perfectly rational reason for those odd dreams you frequently had in your childhood. You have read about it: your experiences had been akin to hypnopompic hallucinations, a state in between sleeping and waking. They did not hold on for long, in fact, the last time something such as that occurred was your 13th birthday. All of the nightmares before seemed to be connected, building up a story with its last chapter ending in the most horrifying finale. You still remember the vivid image of a girl close to your age sitting at the foot of your bed, her robe covered in your blood. Ominous, maybe, but they do not bear any significance whatsoever. Many children suffer from odd maladies in their infancy… or pre-pubescence. Yes. Nothing more to it than that.

Now, a brand new day has arisen with the sun shining unusually bright down from the clearest of summer skies. What will you do?

* * *

ROSE: Mother, do you have to insist on leaving the drawbridge lowered even during summer?  
MOTHER: why, yes of course darling.  
MOTHER: one day you’ll both be old enough to venture out on your own but today is not the day.  
ROXY: but mooooom  
ROXY: i want to see the spooky forest  
ROXY: hunt some ghosts  
ROXY: or maybe visit dirky and janey nd ooo maybe call—  
MOTHER: no “but moms” and no hunting ghosts.  
MOTHER: you'll get to see your friends again soon enough, anyways.  
MOTHER: come, you two. let’s enjoy this beautiful day.  
ROXY: fiiiine  
ROXY: rosie u comin  
ROSE: You may go on, I want to sit besides the lake for a little while longer.  
ROXY: u sure?  
ROSE: Yes.  


You proceed to continue your leisurely activities in the hopes of savouring the serenity of the scenery. It is indeed a pleasant singular moment before your eyes wander over to the road leading out of the forest where a small one-horse carriage is making its way towards the crossroads. For a second you wonder what kind of hurry whoever is driving so fast is in that they would risk an accident while turning the corner. It appears as though you won’t have to wonder much longer, considering the carriage did just crash at the corner and you can ask the woman who was steering the vehicle yourself.

MOTHER: we’ll be in the gardens then if youHOLY SHIT FUCK  
ROXY: whaOH MY FUCKIN GOD THE CARRIAGE  
ROSE: Language.  
ROXY: ENGLISH  
MOTHER: QUIT FOOLING AROUND  
MOTHER: ROXY. LOWER THE BRIDGE  
ROXY: HOW???  
ROSE: Oh my god.  
ROSE: I will do it, you go and help the passengers.  
MOTHER: THANK YOU DARLING  


Both Roxy and your Mother rush over the smaller pedestrian bridge in agitation to get to the wreck where the driver is already struggling to heave herself off the ground. Luckily enough, she doesn’t appear to have sustained any major injuries besides a few scrapes and a mildly larger head wound. Rather than shocked or pained, her expression indicates anger more than anything else.

While they go ahead and help the injured driver, you quickly enter the gatehouse at the bridge and slowly unhinge the chains that keep the drawbridge in place. Now, one might think this isn’t an easy feat to pull off—and it isn’t—but you have practiced this. Just because your mother forbids leaving without her permission, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be prepared.

Crossing the bridge, you see a younger woman being supported by Roxy and your Mother talking to the driver. But there is someone else, presumably unconscious, laying on a bench at the side of the road. You approach her with an odd sense of dread building up inside. You cannot shake the feeling that you know her. Or that she knows you.

PORRIM: I must thank yo+u fo+r yo+ur kindness, dear stranger. I ho+pe this wo+n’t be to+o+ much o+f a burden o+n you.  
ROXY: oh no dont worry we r all happy to help out  
ROXY: that crash was p brutal ur lucky nothing srs happened  
ROXY: besides uhhh the carriage bein totaled whoops  
PORRIM: Yes… that is rather wo+rriso+me.

Your mother and the driver join in on the conversation besides the bench where you stand, still studying the stranger. 

MOTHER: your physical wellbeing is a priority, madame.  
MOTHER: the repairs can be done at any time, i must insist on having you as our guest until it is fully salvaged.  
DOLOROSA: ♀ That is most kind, but I cannot accept. We are traveling on urgent… business.  
MOTHER: i would let you have our carriage if that’s the case, unfortunately we do not have one in our possession at this time.  
MOTHER: we shall call for a craftsman but you mustn’t continue on foot, it is far too dangerous.  
DOLOROSA: ♀ It pains me to admit that you are right… my daughter wouldn’t be able to make it in such poor health.  
ROXY: sooo ur stayin?   
DOLOROSA: ♀ If you would have us.  
MOTHER: but of course. rose, roxy; do you think you can assist that young woman and bring her into a guest room?  
MOTHER: i will take care of any medical attention you might need.  
PORRIM: I can help yo+u with that.  
ROXY: u sure you shouldnt rest up first? ur still p rattled i think  
PORRIM: The impact didn’t hit me as hard as it did my sister. I’ll be fine, do+n’t yo+u wo+rry.  


The girl’s mother crouches next to her daughter, holding her hand in worried agitation. Now being directly addressed, you break your gaze from the unconscious girl. The familiarity is downright frightening.

ROSE: Hm? Ah, yes, of course.  
ROXY: sure thing   
ROSE: Can you prop her up on that side?   
ROXY: mhm hold on  
ROXY: rose u ok on that side ur kind of  
ROXY: too short  
ROSE: My height is perfectly sufficient for this task, thank you very much.  
ROXY: ok shorty  
ROSE: Less talking, more carrying.  
ROXY: pffft yes maam

* * *

DOLOROSA: ♀ Thank you once more for your generosity. I promise we shall repay it soon enough.  
MOTHER: there’s no need for such acts.  
MOTHER: in fact, i am sure the joy that your company will bring will be enough for me and my daughters.  
MOTHER: if you require anything else don’t hesitate to ask. you’ll most likely find me in the basement where my office is.  
DOLOROSA: ♀ Of course, I appreciate it.  
DOLOROSA: ♀ Then, if you’ll excuse me...  
MOTHER: have a good rest.  


You are also a decent eavesdropper—

MOTHER: h—OH god, rose, darling. what are you doing here?  
ROSE: I was simply waiting for you to finish your conversation.  
ROSE: Roxy and I have readied the rooms for Miss Kanaya and Miss Porrim.  
MOTHER: and where are they?  
ROSE: Roxy is chatting with Miss Porrim in her room.  
ROSE: Miss Kanaya had awoken in her own before she laid herself to rest.  
MOTHER: very good, thank you.  
MOTHER: i do hope you will both be adequate hosts.  
ROSE: There is no need for hope, we shall be just that.  
ROSE: Then.  
ROSE: I’ll be off to my room.  


—And a restless scholar. You turn the corner of the hallways and enter the guest room instead of your own. She is still fast asleep so you sit at the chair that was placed next to the bed. That odd burst of anxiety you felt before hasn’t cooled down yet and you are left to wonder on your own; who is she? You have seen this girl before, there is no mistaking her equivocal presence. Rather than tense, she makes you feel torn.

She wears a garb similar to that of her mother and sister, they all bear jade ornaments on their black dresses, Kanaya’s being a little more modest. Her dark, short hair is tousled without dulling her graceful appearance in the slightest, though creating a mismatch in regards to her sharp features. Unlike Porrim, the fall gave her a few more scratches that—despite being treated by your mother—still bleed dark red on her warm brown skin. You reach back to where cleaning cloth, pitcher and glass sit on the nightstand and grab said cloth to dab the small wound.

With a muffled groan, Kanaya attempts to open her eyes—which are also a deep jade in colour. Your staring is merely rooted in curiosity, of course.

KANAYA: Porrim  
KANAYA: No  
KANAYA: Where Is Porrim  
ROSE: Your sister is in the other guest room next door, your mother is in a different one down the hall.  
KANAYA: What  
ROSE: Do you remember anything from the accident? The collision must have taken quite a toll on you.  
KANAYA: I Remember  
KANAYA: Pain  
ROSE: Unsurprising.  
ROSE: You're in the schloss that stands at the top of the road you were on before you crashed now. It seems like you will be staying here until your carriage can be fixed.  
ROSE: Does it still hurt a lot? I could bring you a cup of tea if that would ease any soreness.  
KANAYA: No I  
KANAYA: I Dont Need Anything  
KANAYA: Besides  
KANAYA: Why Are You  
KANAYA: No  
KANAYA: Who Are You  
ROSE: My name is Rose Lalonde. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kanaya.  



End file.
